


Lydia

by hangmanhands



Series: bdsmber prompt fills [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Other, Polyamory, bdsmber, day 3 - safe word, graphic artists do it better, implied nsfw, oc fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 15:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16856929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangmanhands/pseuds/hangmanhands
Summary: BDSMber Day 3: Safe Word. January Anderson/Duke Montavon (OCs) for kermiethefrog. Jan belongs to him, Duke and Storm belong to me.When Storm shows up on Duke's doorstep to tell him Jan would like to talk, Duke has to answer the call.





	Lydia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kermiethefrog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kermiethefrog/gifts).



When Duke gave Jan the pacifier, it wasn’t because he had an ulterior motive. Baronetta didn’t want it, and he was hard pressed to find another person who’d be delighted in a gift like that. It was a very soft purple with a crown on it, and sitting next to Jan and sketching them the following morning, Duke had realized that Jan was just the type of perfect, sweet baby to like that kind of thing. Remembered them mentioning something to the same point.

The solution appeared, simple and easy. He exchanged one unopened pacifier for another, this one with Winnie the Pooh on it, and to Jan the pacifier had gone.

Duke was an artist, so Duke had always known Jan was beautiful, sculpted by the hands of God herself, maybe. You didn’t draw someone every morning five days a week without knowing every part of their pretty little face. And so, the joy so powerful it brought tears to his Jan’s eyes, and the declaration of love that followed receiving the pacifier, combined with this heightened awareness of features and habits, had turned the fond feelings Duke had for Jan into a complicated mess in his chest.

Okay, that was fine, that wasn’t a big deal. This happened to him more than he cared to admit--Baronetta, Evie, Rory, that handsome detective, and now Jan. Which is to say, he was always falling in love with people he’d never come first for.

And that was okay with him. He excelled at second fiddle, actually, thank you. ‘Unconditional’ was a hard promise to live up to for most men. Duke found it to be as easy as as anything else. He put his pants on. He made his eggs. He did his art. He loved his friends.

Duke had assumed that would be the end of it. They’d continue to flirt over their tablets, and then Jan would visit Daire after hours for ‘School,’ and then Jan would go home to Storm. Duke would go back to the increasingly empty apartment he shared with somewhere around, say, maybe ten or fifteen Kelleys, make dinner like everyone would be home, and draw on the balcony until he ran out of cigarettes or steam, whichever came first. This was all okay. Rory and the twins were usually home for breakfast, or, at the very least, an emergency quickchange twenty minutes before they all had to leave for work. He only very rarely had to hire a lyft to take him. Besides, when the house was full, when all fifteen Kelleys showed up in rare form, loud and irreverent, it was enough to make him forget the way loneliness had nested in his chest just hours before.

Storm takes him by surprise on a Saturday morning. He tells Duke that Jan is sitting on the floor in their living room watching reruns of _My Life as a Teenage Robot_ and _Danny Phantom_ and eating Lucky Charms, and that they need to talk to him.

Duke understands that this an important moment, having lived the last fifteen years at the whim of three babies of a similar disposition, and so tells Rory that he’ll be home later, and kisses him on the forehead. He lets Storm take him to their house, which is huge and beautiful. 

They walk in and Duke finds Jan exactly where Storm said they’d be. They’re wearing a long, soft-looking skirt the dreamy pink of cotton candy and a cloudy black t-shirt that was possibly purchased as a crop top for Storm, but hung loose and a little long on Jan’s matchstick frame, held back with a hair tie so it seemed truer to their size, only the sleeves free enough to give them away. It says HARD CANDY in rainbow letters on the front and Duke tries to remember how much money he has in his pockets because if he doesn’t try to buy it off of Jan for Baronetta, she can never know it exists. Their hair is braided, fishtail, over their shoulder, and their feet are bare.

All this to say that Jan sitting in the middle of the living room with their legs tucked to the side and a bowl of Lucky Charms in their lap makes Duke feel like he accidentally swallowed his bubblegum, at once alive with the thrill of it and uncomfortably breathless.

“Oh!” Jan says, finally. They set the bowl on the floor. “Hi, Duke.”

Duke smiles at them. “Hi, Honeybee.”

A smile opens up Jan’s face, lets light shine out. “Buzz, buzz!”

Storm smiles and sees himself to the backyard, where coconut rum and warm sun are waiting for him. American delicacies.

“What can I do you for?” Duke asks softly, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Jan folds their hands and rests their chin on them. “I thought we could have a playdate,” they say. “If that’s okay with you.”

God, Duke thinks, is not as merciful as he’d hoped. To Jan, he says, “Of course that’s okay with me. What did you have in mind?”

Four hours later, Duke has eyeshadow on and is in the middle of sketching The Darling Honeybee with crayons he’s sharpened half to death. He’s testing about fourteen shades of pink on a stray piece of paper to find the perfect shade of pink for Jan’s mouth when they say, “Hey, Duke?” in a soft, hesitant voice.

Duke looks up immediately. “Yes, Baby?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a long time, and I was just wonderin’.” They bite their pretty bottom lip. “Do you like me?”

“Yes,” Duke says. “I like you very much.”

“I mean. Do you like me the way you like Rory? The way Mr. Hughes likes me?”

Duke feels caught. “Would that be okay with you?”

“Yes!” Jan says immediately. They dial it back a bit. “I mean. If you do, we can have more playdates. Funner ones.” They rock forward on their knees, fisting a hand in their skirt. “You’re a lot of canvas to paint, and I bet you’d make me look so pretty. And,” they shrug a shoulder quickly, “you know. Other nakey stuff.”

Duke swallows. “And is that okay with Mr. Hughes?”

Jan nods. “I asked ‘im. Mr. Hughes said he’d talk to you about sharing.”

“Oh,” Duke says. And suddenly all of those weird little comments that Duke had chalked up to Daire being a lot Irish and a little drunk a lot of the time (“Thank ye for that overnightin’ checklist, mate, I owe ye one,” “I dunno what ye do when yer together, but the kid won’t stop talkin’ about ye,” “In case no one told ye, their bedtime is midnight,”) started to make sense. “Right. Yes. He did. He did do that.”

“And you want to?”

Duke runs a hand over his jaw. “Yes. Yeah, I do, definitely.”

Jan beams at him again. They launch themselves the five feet between them and wraps their long arms around Duke. “I’m so happy,” they say into Duke’s shoulder.

Duke melts a little, wrapping his arms around Jan and holding them close. “Me too, Honeybee.”

“So,” Jan says, leaning back in Duke’s arms just far enough to look into his face. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Yeah,” Duke says, leaning down and tapping his nose against theirs. “You can have as many kisses as you want.” He leans down and presses his mouth to Jan’s parted bubblegum lips.

Duke kisses them thoroughly, until they’re gasping for air. Duke watches them pant lightly and sets his jaw. “Now ain’t you just bright as sunshine,” he says.

Jan shushes him gently, eyebrows half furrowed, mouth round and pouty. Duke steals another kiss off of them. They chase his lips as he pulls away.

Duke pats their butt lightly where it half hangs off of his knee. “First thing’s first,” Duke says in the voice he uses to rein the Kelleys in, soft but firm. “What’s our safe word?”

“Lydia,” Jan says half a second later.

“Lydia?” Duke repeats. He doesn’t figure he should be as surprised as he is. His other safe words are ‘daddy,’ ‘undercover,’ ‘spaghetti squash,’ and ‘Charleston.’ Nothing should phase him at this point.

Jan nods. “Why would I say it if not to stop?”

Duke has to give them that. “I--You’re absolutely right, Honeybee. Lydia it is.”

“Great!” they say. “Can I help you take your clothes off now?”

“Yeah. Are your paints in this room?”

Jan giggles at Duke. “No, silly.” They smile, pushing Duke’s jean jacket from his shoulders. “You know. Other nakey stuff.”


End file.
